


Imperfect Timing

by eevilalice



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Secret Relationship, Servants, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eevilalice/pseuds/eevilalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The latest shenanigans resulting from the Phantomhive servants’ fascination with Sebastian involve timing the butler as he completes various tasks with astonishing speed. And then they find a pattern associated with their young master…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imperfect Timing

**Author's Note:**

> A belated entry for the Kuroshitsuji Fanworks Circus: Ring 1: Image 1 (gold watch).
> 
> I'm not super-specific about Ciel's age, so he could be considered canon age (underage) or older.

“Six minutes and forty-eight seconds,” Finny announces, a preternaturally strong hand dangling Tanaka’s pocket watch on its chain. Three faces fixate on the gold accessory, one peering up jovially.

“Well that’s nothing unusual,” Bard observes, cigarette at the crook of his mouth.

“I can’t dress myself that fast,” Mey-rin admits.

“Can’t you?” Bard lifts an eyebrow.

She pushes her glasses up, flushing. “Th-there’s more involved in my dress!”

“What do _you_ think, Mister Tanaka?” Finny shifts his wide-eyed gaze from watch to owner.

“Ho ho ho!” Tanaka smiles at them.

“Hm,” Finny murmurs as if contemplating Tanaka’s response.

Bard smacks Finny in the chest with the back of his hand; the boy stumbles back a step, unfazed. “Kitchen! Let’s go!” He yanks Finny by the collar, and the gardener in turn pinches Mey-rin’s sleeve. The maid squints at the young master’s door where Sebastian recently exited and turns to follow the two, accidentally bumping into Finny in front of her. Tanaka brings up the rear.

A slate-haired head pokes out the door, unnoticed.

* * *

“Eleven minutes, fifteen seconds!” Finny whispers this time as Sebastian leaves the kitchen and enters the hallway, his back to them. The four crouch behind the pantry door.

“You see? I could beat that.” Bard exhales the smoke he’d been holding.

“Maybe it’s a small breakfast,” Finny contemplates.

They shuffle forward and peek into the hallway. Sebastian rounds a corner, revealing the tray in his hand loaded with eggs, ham, toast, an assortment of pastries, porridge, tea, juice, and milk. Appearing to be inspecting the meal and apparently satisfied, Sebastian covers the hot items with a gleaming silver lid.

“I wouldn’t say that’s a small breakfast,” Mey-rin voices what runs through all their minds.

“I could still beat that.” Bard crosses his arms over his chest.

Mey-rin fluffs her skirts. “With a flamethrower.” 

Finny faces Bard, tilting his head curiously. “Why didn’t you make the young master’s breakfast?”

Bard huffs. “I did. It’s in there.” He jerks his head at the kitchen. The other three backtrack to see. There’s a tray with what looks like a pile of ash sitting beside the stove.

“Ho ho ho!”

* * *

“Right, time to split. Your turn first,” Bard proclaims, pointing at Finny. “Report back at tea time.”

Finny nods determinedly, and they all head off to do their respective afternoon tasks with every intention of giving them their best, which is to say their worst. 

Outside, Finny holds the pruning shears up like a sword and surveys the overgrown bushes at the back of the manor. Narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw, he lights into them with a fervor, superstrength allowing him to snap more branches at a quicker rate than he’s sure even Mister Sebastian could manage. Branches and leaves fly around him as if caught in a mini-hurricane.

Some time later, Finny pauses and wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. He picks a twig from his hair and raises his wide-brimmed hat to his head to block the climbing sun. “Those shrubs really needed pruning!” he exclaims, proud of his work. 

A sigh floats on the still air behind him, and Finny turns to find Sebastian surveying the misshapen, thin shrubbery with a frown. 

“Perhaps a touch over-enthusiastic,” the butler intones. His handsome face quickly morphs from dismay to solicitousness, lit with a wide smile. “Why don’t you go inside for a refreshment, and I’ll clean up here.” 

“Thank you, Mister Sebastian!” Without hesitation, Finny heads off for the manor, short, skinny legs nearly hopping. He grips the watch in his pocket and pulls it out for a glance. He enters the manor and pauses just inside the servants’ entrance, waiting.

Four minutes and forty-five seconds later, Sebastian returns, and when Finny dashes out to look, the shrubs have been re-shaped, and he could swear there are more.

* * *

After Finny hands her the watch, Mey-rin begins dusting. She’s as careful as always, and, as always, there are one or two near-misses with the old, delicate, expensive objects that grace the manor. After an hour, she’s still done only one room. After an hour and a quarter, while replacing a gleaming vase in the parlor, she misjudges, and it tumbles.

Sebastian deftly catches it mid-fall.

Mey-rin gasps, mostly in awe, and flushes. “S-sorry Mister Sebastian, sir!” She bows in apology.

“Allow me to finish with the dusting,” he smiles beatifically. “You can move on to the laundry.”

Mey-rin nods furiously. “Th-thank you, Mister Sebastian!” Face still warm, she leaves the room. Once beyond the door, she brings the watch up to her face. It clinks against her glasses.

* * *

“It took him but twenty minutes or thereabouts to do the whole house. The _whole house_!” Mey-rin whisper-shouts, hands waving.

Bard shifts his cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. “Prob’ly you couldn’t see the watch properly.”

Indignant, Mey-rin shoves her hands down at her sides, hands clenching. “I saw it just fine! And Mister Tanaka did, too,” she adds with a mumble.

“Fine, fine! My turn.” Bard rolls up his sleeves and enters the kitchen, eyes gleaming. He retrieves his favorite flamethrower from the pantry, and, after assembling the ingredients for that night’s dinner, takes aim.

* * *

“Maybe twice as long as breakfast when it should’ve been three-times that! And he didn’t even use a flamethrower!” Bard recounts in wonder, ash clinging precipitously to the remains of his cigarette. A darker, different sort of ash mars the white of his apron. “At least, I didn’t hear the flamethrower,” he adds.

Finny and Mey-rin shake their heads in mingled disbelief and awe. They watch the young master descend the stairs and make for the dining room where a meal worthy of an earl is about to be delivered.

“Could be Mister Sebastian was especially energetic today,” Finny muses.

Mey-rin sighs in admiration. “He’s always quick and-and perfect in his duties.” Her cheeks flame red.

“We carry on,” Bard orders. “See if it’s ordinary or un-ordinary for ‘im. There’s tonight when he gets the young master ready for bed still, too.”

Three heads nod. One may or may not be lamenting the absence of his watch.

* * *

Almost a week later, in the hallway leading to their quarters, the four peer at the notes they’ve made on Sebastian’s speed for various tasks.

“Wow! They’re almost _exactly_ the same every day!” Finny’s green eyes can’t get any bigger.

“Except--” Bard points to the entries at the top and bottom of each day’s notes. “--it’s taking him longer every day to dress and prepare the young master for bed.” His brow contracts.

“Ohh, he was in there nearly an hour last night,” Mey-rin says, tapping her lip.

“Ho ho ho!” Tanaka appears to share their bewilderment.

“I wonder…” Bard starts. “The young master’s getting older, after all…”

The four look at one another.

“It should be taking less time then?” Mey-rin ponders.

“Or--” Bard breaks off, face alight with his idea, “--could be he’s finally taking Miss Elizabeth into consideration. She keeps sending all those clothes over. He’s got to sort through ‘em sometime.”

A smile nearly stretches to the lower rims of Mey-rin’s glasses. “Oh, young master! Dressing for your fiancé!” She claps her hands together.

“Though he hasn’t actually been dressing differently, but maybe Miss Elizabeth is due to visit soon?” A shadow of confusion crosses Bard’s face.

“I-I don’t think that’s it,” Finny says quietly. He stares at his shoes a moment before looking up at them, worry in his kind eyes.

“Out with it, man!” Bard lays a hand on his shoulder that contradicts his demanding tone.

“Last night when I stuck around to time Mister Sebastian, I heard cries coming from the young master’s bedroom.” He bites his lip, eyes shining. “I think--I think he’s been having nightmares again.”

Bringing both hands to her mouth, Mey-rin squeaks in dismay. Bard’s cigarette sags from his mouth.

“Mister Sebastian’s such a noble, good, caring butler!” Finny’s voice trembles and his eyes and cheeks go wet as he bursts into tears.

* * *

“You indecent, perverted demon!” Ciel smacks Sebastian’s hand away.

“You would rather sleep au naturel tonight, young master?” the butler asks innocently, still holding Ciel’s night shirt.

Ciel huffs and holds his arms up for Sebastian to slip the garment over his head. As the demon buttons him up for the second time that night, Ciel continues his tirade.

“First you let them carry on their silly mission, then you encourage it by-by--” he gestures around at the disheveled sheets, falling silent with irritation.

Finished with his master’s clothing, Sebastian reaches for his own vest and coat, neatly folded on a nearby chair. “Young master, I hope you’re not insinuating the past few nights’ activities have been carried out simply as some sort of delaying tactic. After all, it was you who failed to order me to st--”

“Enough!” Ciel flushes, marked eye flashing. “Who knows what they’re up to now!”

“No doubt they think something false and innocent, young master. If they haven’t already, they’ll soon tire of their quest.” Sebastian straightens his coat and puts on his immaculate gloves. He sets the sheets aright and tucks Ciel in, hand lingering at his cheek.

“They’d better,” Ciel grumbles, turning away from Sebastian’s touch.

Out of sight of his master, Sebastian grins slyly. “And I can always accomplish the same results much more efficiently,” he offers before slipping out the door. The sound of a pillow’s _thwack_ against the wood does nothing to erase the demon’s smile.


End file.
